The Waiting Game
by TheShippyQueen
Summary: Mrs Patmore versus Pharaoh, Lord Grantham's dog! A bit of silliness, as always, I own nothing!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So, this is totally silly but just a bit of fun! I hope you enjoy it and don't think I've completely gone mad! If you think I have gone mad, you're probably right! :)_

**The Waiting Game**

**Day 1:**

It began on a Monday, as Mrs Patmore removed the large and delightfully smelling piece of pork from the main oven. Sizzling and spitting, with a thick, golden layer of crackling, the piece of meat was a fine monster to behold. Mrs Patmore inhaled deeply at the delicious smell, and rested the huge pot onto the bench, to allow the meat to settle.

It would make a fine meal for the family. She inhaled again….but so did someone else.

Two big eyes stared unblinkingly at the large pot on the bench, close but just out of reach. Four paws shifted lightly and a golden tail gave a soft, expectant wag as delicious scents filled a large, wet, black, _very_ sensitive nose. Lips were licked and four paws shifted again.

Mrs Patmore turned her back to tackle the next stage of the meal and she called out orders to the maids, who rushed back and forth with pots and pans and other, less appetising foods. He merely watched from his location near the door. Back and forth people moved, back and forth the food was carried about. But that delicious smell remained exactly where it was, calling out to him.

Two eyes observed carefully. Many feet kept passing by, keeping him from that delicious smelling meat that sat so teasingly on the wooden bench.

Pans clanged, knives sliced and voices chattered but still the eyes observed. Waiting.

Finally, the big, wet, sensitive nose could take no more, and with another big, wet lick of his lips all four feet shifted and with a wagging tail, he made his move.

Foolishly, he rushed in. Paws clattering on the stone floor as he raced towards the meat that kept calling out to him.

Mrs Patmore stopped. Mrs Patmore turned. Seeing the incoming danger she shrieked and waved her towel wildly as Pharaoh rushed towards the table.

"He's goin' for t' meat!" Daisy's cry rang out as the entire kitchen staff stopped and turned to observe the battle between dog and cook.

"Be off! Be off!" Mrs Patmore shrieked. Whipping wildly at him, the towel swiped across the big, wet nose and Pharaoh came skidding to a halt, then with paws and claws clattering, he tried to make his escape away from the vicious towel that was still being wildly lashed about.

"Filthy mutt! Get out me kitchen!" Mrs Patmore's towel whipped out at him again, clipping him across his departing bottom.

She exhaled loudly, one hand clutching at her bosom at the disaster she'd just averted. "That bloomin' dog's goin t'be 'death o' me!"

With his tail between his legs, Pharaoh clattered back upstairs to re-join his master, nose and bottom smarting, he felt rather sorry for himself. The smell of that delicious meat still lingering tauntingly within his sensitive nostrils. He licked his lips again at the mere thought, he'd been so close. Next time, next time he'd succeed.

Big eyes observed his master and he nudged lightly at a human arm. Lord Grantham looked down at his dog and smiled affectionately, patting his big head with love.

"What's the matter boy?" Lord Grantham asked, noticing the rather sad look on his faithful friend's face.

Pharaoh merely whined softly. Next time, next time he'd succeed.


	2. Only Fools Rush In

**Chapter 2: Only Fools Rush In.**

_Mrs Patmore was sleeping deeply in her little bed, the smell of cooking still lingering about her. She sighed deeply in her sleep, smacking her lips together as she dreamt. Slowly her mouth dropped open and a deep snoring sound rumbled from the back of her throat._

_In her dream she had just added the finishing touches to what had been a fabulous meal. Lord and Lady Grantham were throwing a huge banquet for the Prime Minister, every dignitary in the land was present, and Mrs Patmore had prepared an excellent meal. As the last course was delivered _

"_Well done, Mrs Patmore. You've done Downton proud tonight! His Lordship wishes to thank you in person. You are to go to the dining room at once!" Mr Carson announced._

_Mrs Patmore beamed, the resounding applause of the rest of the staff ringing in her ears as she ascended the staircase._

_The dream shifted lightly and Mrs Patmore was outside the dining room. Glancing down, she saw she was no longer in her dirty, gravy-stained uniform; instead, she was wearing the most elegant ball gown. She felt incredible as she stepped inside the coveted dining room._

"_Mrs Patmore!" Lord Grantham cried, rising to his feet as she entered, "Do come in! Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Mrs Patmore, our cook!"_

_The applause rang out as everyone (with much extended stomachs, she noted) rose to their feet and began to applaud, calling out praise and congratulations. Mrs Patmore beamed with pride at the praise, her eyes scanning the beautiful table, filled with copious amounts of empty plates._

_In her sleep, Mrs Patmore grinned and turned over._

_Then, the door burst open and the world seemed to stop as a familiar sight came clattering into the room. Eyes focus__s__ed, tail high, her nemesis came charging towards the table. With a huge leap he was on the table, and, before she could say or do anything, he was taking great, sweeping licks of every plate, glasses scattering in his wake, ladies screaming in shock._

"_Nooooooooooo!" Mrs Patmore bellowed. _

And that's when she woke up.

"That bloomin' dog!"

xXx

_Pharaoh was sleeping soundly, eyes rolling in the back of his head, four paws stretched out in front of him and his tongue lolling idly out the corner of his mouth. He was lost in a wonderful, pork-filled dream. He was running, no, galloping through long grass, chasing a great, juicy piece of pork._

_In his sleep, his paws twitched and he gave a small, sleepy bark. The meat filled the sky and he happily jumped up and down, trying to reach the pork. But, try as he might, he just couldn't quite reach that delicious meat. Again, he gave a sleepy bark followed by a low growl of frustration._

_He'd get that meat, if it was the last thing he did._

**Day 2:**

Pharaoh was an intelligent dog, nobody could deny that. He followed his master faithfully, did his 'business' in the correct places, stayed clear of Lady Grantham (who was not keen on his supposed "smell"), could do the basics such as 'sit' and 'stay' and knew exactly which of the staff would be affectionate and which were likely to scold him and send him on his way.

But, like every other dog in the world, where food was concerned, Pharaoh had a real weakness.

It was this weakness that took him back downstairs to the kitchens the very next day. His paws had barely landed on the bottom step when the delicious scents emanating from the kitchen reached his nose with full force.

Mrs Patmore hummed happily to herself as she added the finishing touches to two, large, fat, juicy chickens all ready to be served to the family and their guests for the evening, the Crawley's.

"Have the vegetables gone up?" she called out as she added a sprig of garnish to the last chicken.

"Yes Mrs Patmore!" Daisy answered.

"Right… oh Lord! I almost forgot the gravy!" Mrs Patmore cried, spinning on her heels. She turned her full attention to the stove and stirred furiously at the delicious, thick, brown liquid.

Those chickens were driving him wild. Big and fat and golden. They were crying out to be eaten. His eyes focussed, tunnel vision taking over and without thinking he trotted into the kitchen, his paws click-clacking on the stone floor. Tail high, he circled the table, wet nose in the air and a small trail of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

He was so close now, so close to that delicious smell that possessed him, body and mind. He was almost there; a few more steps and he'd be able to grab at one of those big, fat legs.

A sudden shriek and a cacophony of cries rang out, shaking poor Pharaoh out of his chicken-fuelled stupor. Those cries and shouts could only mean one thing – he'd been spotted! And he knew what came next – that towel!

"You!" Mrs Patmore shrieked. "Why, I…!"

_Swish! Swipe! Swish! Swipe!_

That dreaded towel began flailing about and Pharaoh set off, tail tucked protectively between his legs and his head low as he torpedoed towards the exit, knocking into Mrs Patmore's legs as he panicked. Mrs Patmore wobbled, gravy slopping everywhere, as she tried to shoo him away with her free hand, just missing him as he dashed past her.

"Get out! And stay out!" she bellowed after him, gravy still slopping onto the floor. As her nemesis disappeared out of the room, she groaned heavily. Closing her eyes, she steadied herself against the kitchen table and rested the traumatised gravy boat onto the safety of the bench. "Lord! That dog!"

Pharaoh trotted back upstairs with a deep sense of dissatisfaction. To repeat yesterday's disaster? What had he been thinking? It was a foolish error, and one he wouldn't be making again! But he still could not forget those delicious smells wafting out of that kitchen. He had to go back…but next time, he would have to be more cunning.


	3. Chapter 3  On a lick and a prayer

**Day 3: On a lick and a prayer…**

It was another busy evening in the kitchens. Mr Carson was tapping his foot rather impatiently as he waited for the first course to be served, service was running slightly behind and all the kitchen staff were rather flustered.

Mrs Patmore was barking commands like a general during battle. Maids dashed here and there as chaos was brought to order. On the surface of the worktop, a nice, juicy piece of beef was resting, succulent and ever so slightly pink - it was another excellent Patmore creation. One that would, no doubt, please the family during the next course.

As the first course was finally plated up and sent away, Mrs Patmore could begin the next round, preparing everything for the main course to perfection. She prided herself in her cooking, each meal had to be a masterpiece, she would never settle for less than that.

The kitchen was filled with that delicious smell that only comes from cooking a fine piece of beef; the air was truly mouth-watering. Mrs Patmore inhaled deeply with satisfaction, she had to admit, she cooked a fine joint of beef and this one was simply spectacular.

She wasn't the only one to think so.

In the corridor, Pharaoh sat waiting. His nose twitching with the excitement at the smell of that lovely beef and he was desperate to have a go at tasting it. But, he had quickly learnt that rushing in got him nowhere.

This time, he had a plan.

His paws shifted slightly and his bottom moved a fraction of an inch closer to the kitchen, his black nose just poking around the doorway. His nose quivered as the smell intensified and he couldn't help but lick his lips in anticipation.

He stood up and quickly put his plan into action. Head low, tail down; he slunk across the doorway, trying not to draw attention to himself as he made his way towards the other kitchen entrance. As he passed, he couldn't stop his eyes catching sight of that lovely piece of meat sat staring back at him. He felt himself beginning to salivate and picked up his speed.

Further down the corridor was another entrance into the kitchen, and Pharaoh approached unnoticed. All the staff were occupied, and though he was a large dog, he was rather quiet, and had so far been unseen.

He poked his nose through the doorway and sniffed the air, then moved a little further inside and took a good look. Everyone was busy and he saw his chance. Again, head low and tail down he tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as he moved into the kitchen. Keeping himself pressed against the wall he trotted as gently and as quickly as he could towards the prize that now sat so close to him.

From this vantage point he could see the meat, but he was still too far away, he would have to take that final dangerous step and go around the other side. He couldn't risk being seen now he'd come so far, so, with a stroke of genius, he took a shortcut underneath the table, emerging out the other side and in perfect reach of that lovely piece of beef.

His eyes widened, his nose lifted, and, tilting his muzzle, his tongue slid out towards the waiting prize. He took a long, slow lick along one edge of the juicy meat, his mind fogging over with the heavenly taste. It was even better than he'd ever imagined and he could only begin to wonder how wonderful it would be to chew on something this good.

The moment was suddenly ruined.

Sounds of shrieking and crashing filled the air, and a hand smacked down hard upon his muzzle shaking him out of his moment.

"Argh! Argh! Get off!" Mrs Patmore shrieked in horror. "Daisy! He's licked it! That bloomin' thing's licked it!"

Another hand, smaller and daintier, landed on the back of his neck and he was being pulled towards the exit. Reluctantly, he followed, head down, feigning remorse.

"You bad boy, Pharaoh!" Daisy scolded. "Naughty dog! Very naughty!"

Pharaoh tried to look remorseful, though it was hard, the taste of that meat was still fresh on his tongue, he'd almost succeeded! If only he hadn't wasted time in licking…..

Mrs Patmore was flapping her arms in horror, hyperventilating in shock, the dog had licked it! He'd actually licked the piece of beef she was about to serve to Lord and Lady Grantham! What was she to do now?

That dog! It was out to get her, she was sure of it now! He was doing this deliberately, she'd seen the look in its eyes as he was led away by Daisy, she would even go so far as to say he'd planned the whole thing! Three days now! Three days he'd tormented her and now he'd succeeded! He was a very devil sent to test her!

As she wiped at the beef with a towel, she made a mental pact. That dog was history.


	4. Sure as eggs is eggs

_A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews – you guys rock!_

**Day 4: Sure as eggs is eggs…**

The sun had not yet risen when Pharaoh stretched himself awake. Getting up onto his feet, he dipped his front legs in a deep stretch and yawned widely. Standing back up, he gave himself an invigorating shake and set off on his first mission of the day.

After last night's disaster, Pharaoh was playing at a new game. It seemed to him that it was far too dangerous to try and get at the delicious meat whilst that cook was around. It would be a much better idea to try and find some of those tasty treats before she was up and awake.

He padded softly down the stairs that led to the kitchens, all was in darkness and there wasn't a sound to be heard. His nose sniffed the air, tasting the smells that still lingered from the night before. And now, with nobody about, he could enjoy himself at his own leisure.

Nose down, he sniffed about the floor, licking occasionally at splashes of sauce and fat stains. He padded about the kitchen, searching for anything that might be classed as meaty and tasty. His next stop was the pantry, and nudging the door open, he peered inside, sniffing at the air. These smells were different somehow; less appetising with a more….fresh sort of smell, but, to Pharaoh, they were interesting nonetheless.

He nudged at a few things, pushing his nose deeply between a few items only to leap back when a few of them fell to the floor. He had a good sniff at what had fallen; as none of it was of any interest to him he continued his explorations. There was a rather unusual smell coming from a higher shelf, and Pharaoh raised himself up to try and get a better sniff, resting his paws onto the shelf. The shelf was a little unstable and it wobbled, suddenly the whole thing tipped up and a great number of items began to slide towards poor Pharaoh.

He panicked, his paws got caught and the whole shelf collapsed. Bags of white stuff fell in great clouds all over Pharaoh, followed by smaller little oval shaped things that smashed all around him in great sticky splodges.

Pharaoh backed out of the pantry quickly, eyes wide at the destruction he had caused. He would have to make a quick escape before anybody found him. But still, he hadn't found what he had come looking for and it was still early, there was still time.

What he hadn't counted on, was Mrs Patmore.

She had risen early to make a start on preparing food for the day. If she was honest, she hadn't slept well. That whole debacle with that dog the night before had been playing on her mind, she was sure the dog was doing it deliberately now.

As she arrived in the kitchen, she heard a noise coming from the pantry, a rustling and snuffling sound. She stopped in her tracks and listened as the noises continued, someone was in the pantry!

She looked about her and reached slowly for her rolling pin on the nearby table. She took a few tentative steps towards the pantry when suddenly a huge noise exploded from inside the little room. She heard things falling, heard eggs smashing on the floor and more importantly, she saw the cause of the destruction.

She watched in growing anger as a golden coloured bottom backed out of her pantry, tail down. Her anger grew as she saw, his Lordship's dog, covered in flour and eggs reversing out into her domain, completely unremorseful.

"YOU!" she bellowed.

Pharaoh's ears pricked and he jumped in fright at the dreadful sound of the cook shouting at him. He knew he was in the wrong and set off running, flour billowing off his head in great white clouds. The great sticky splodges were beginning to dry on his fur and in areas, had mixed together with the powdery stuff to make a paste. Pharaoh was in a mess.

"Get back here, you!" Mrs Patmore shrieked, waving the rolling pin as she gave chase. "I saw you! I know what you were doing in my pantry!"

Pharaoh ran as fast as his four legs could carry him, he could hear the cook giving chase and he knew things were looking bad. He made his way towards the staircase, flour still billowing off him and his fur was definitely feeling crusty.

"I'll get you for this!" Mrs Patmore yelled.

As Pharaoh disappeared upstairs, another door opened and a sleep dishevelled Mr Carson appeared looking very unimpressed.

"Mrs Patmore, what on earth are you shouting about?"

Another door opened and Mrs Hughes appeared, wrapping a shawl about herself, her face contorted with concern.

"Mr Carson? Is everything alright?" she asked, her Scottish accent rather prevalent in her sleepy state.

"It's that dog!" Mrs Patmore shrieked, still wielding her rolling pin. "It's out to get me! It's destroyed my pantry! It'll be the death o' me! The death!"

"Calm down, Mrs Patmore," Mr Carson said, his tone soothing as he took in the state Mrs Patmore had worked herself into.

"Calm down? How can I? Look at the mess it's made! Filthy, stupid mutt!"

Mr Carson bristled slightly, "Mrs Patmore, his lordship's dog is highly bred and should be shown the respect a dog of his standing deserves."

"Respect? Respect?" Mrs Patmore shrieked. "I'll have that Pyramid mummified if I catch it in 'ere again!"

"Pharaoh," Mr Carson corrected. "Now, calm down, I'm sure it can't be all that bad."

Mrs Patmore spent the next few hours gulping and shaking with shock as maids scurried about clearing up the mess that Pharaoh had made. Mr Carson had to admit, one dog certainly could make a dreadful mess of one small pantry.

Mrs Patmore's mind was slowly turning rather sinister, that dog was not going to get the better of her! This was war!

As for Pharaoh, he was quickly removed to the stables where he was made to endure the indignity of cold water bath, given to him by the stable boy. Another failed day.


	5. Man's Best Friend

_A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and for those who have this listed on alerts, I'm glad you're enjoying Pharaoh! This is Day 5….and there are 7 days in a week, so, poor Pharaoh may just have to suffer a little longer… :D xx_

Day 5 – Man's Best Friend….

Pharaoh was laid in the library, head resting on his large paws and a big, sad look upon his face. He was feeling rather depressed, not only had his master gone out for the day and left him, but he was now banished from the kitchens after the incident yesterday.

It was most unfair that he was being punished in this way; he couldn't see that he'd done anything very naughty, well….not really. It had all been most unfortunate, he hadn't intended to destroy the pantry, he'd merely wanted to get at the meat! They were two very different things! He was a victim of circumstance.

And, when he thought more about it, the cook was entirely to blame. If she had not hidden away that meat, he'd never have needed to go into the pantry looking for it! She was to blame, she was a cruel woman and she had it in for him!

Pharaoh licked his nose sadly and gave a big sigh; life was not fair at all.

He was suddenly aware of approaching feet and raised his head slightly to see who it was. Two footmen entered the library and Pharaoh recognised the younger one as being rather kind. He gave a small wag of his tail and gazed at them both with sad eyes.

"What's t' matter wi' Pharaoh?" William asked, looking down with a hint of concern at the sad faced Labrador.

Thomas shrugged, "He's always like that when 'is lordship's out. 'e goes all sad an' depressed, pinin' like. 'e'll be right soon enough."

William crouched down in front of Pharaoh and rubbed his big head affectionately. Pharaoh didn't move, he merely gave another small wag of his tail. It seemed to him that this lad was a bit of a soft touch, and that could work in his favour.

"What's the matter, boy?" William asked. "You missin' yer master?"

Pharaoh kept his gaze all sad and depressed, even though inside a new idea was forming.

"Oh, leave it alone yer great soft chump!" Thomas snapped. "Now, 'urry up!"

William rubbed Pharaoh's head one last time and stood back up, straightening out his jacket and set off after the Thomas. Pharaoh got to his feet and followed, keeping close to William's heels.

If he played this right, he could get exactly what he wanted.

All morning he followed William about. Wherever William went, Pharaoh was always close behind. Occasionally, he would nudge at William's arm, just to remind him that he was still there and was always rewarded with an affectionate pat on the head. Back and forth, up and down he followed him and when finally, William descended into the servants' quarters, Pharaoh whined and cried at the top of the stairs.

"Come on boy, come on!" William coaxed.

Pharaoh knew he was no longer allowed downstairs, he knew he was banned from being anywhere near the kitchens, but surely, with William on his side, he couldn't do too much harm….could he?

"Come Pharaoh, come here!" William called, and carried on down the stairs.

Pharaoh's plan took hold and softly he padded down the stairs, padded down into _her_ territory. He kept close to William, following him about, his nose practically pressed against William's leg the whole time. Whenever William looked at him, he would adopt big, sad eyes and give a very convincing little whine, nudging the young man's hand.

"There, there boy! 'e'll be 'ome soon!" William would soothe and rub his ears tenderly.

It was working like a dream.

When the servants' lunch was served, Pharaoh stuck close to William and sat himself at his feet, peering up from beneath the table with the same sad expression he'd used all morning. He gave a deep sigh and rested his head on William's knees and watched as the young man ate his lunch.

William kept glancing down, that sad expression tugging on his heart strings and when nobody was looking, began dropping tasty morsels of his dinner into Pharaoh's ever ready mouth.

"Don't let Mrs Patmore see you do that!" Mr Bates warned.

"She'll hit the roof if she knew you'd let 'im in 'ere!" Anna added with a shake of her head.

"Aye, you'll get a smacked bottom if she finds out!" Thomas warned.

"I felt sorry for 'im!" William said defensively, another morsel dropping into Pharaoh's waiting mouth. "Look at 'im! All sad and unhappy, 'e's missin' 'is lordship."

"Yer big softie!" Daisy's smile was affectionate.

Pharaoh was in heaven. Not only had he remained in the forbidden territory for a good half an hour without the cook noticing, but he'd also found himself a soft touch in William. He'd shared most of his lunch with him, and though it wasn't exactly a nice juicy piece of pork or beef, it was still rather pleasant. And, who knew what he would share with him next time?

Pharaoh was just starting to relax and actually enjoy himself when, a familiar noise greeted his ears.

"What's that smell?" Mrs Patmore's voice rang out. "Has someone let that dog in 'ere?"

Pharaoh poked his head out from underneath the table and fixed Mrs Patmore with an unrepentant gaze.

"YOU!" Mrs Patmore roared. Her gaze moved from Pharaoh to William and back to Pharaoh again. Pharaoh licked his lips in response. Mrs Patmore's face went puce with rage.

"Oh, I know you're game!" Mrs Patmore growled as Pharaoh moved out from under the table. "That's how you're playing it, is it? Well, we'll see about that!"

"Oh, Mrs Patmore, don't send him away! He's all sad and pinin' for 'is lordship! I felt sorry for 'im, that's why he's 'ere." William's voice trembled as he tried to defend the dog and his actions.

"Don't be so soft lad!" Mrs Patmore laughed a harsh and bitter laugh. "He ain't pinin'! He's scavenging! I know 'is game!"

She stomped across the floor towards the seated Pharaoh and narrowed her eyes. Pharaoh swallowed hard but stood his ground. Mrs Patmore scowled and pointed her finger at him.

"I know what you're up to! And it won't work! Now, scoot!"

She grabbed at the back of Pharaoh's neck and frogmarched him towards the staircase, Pharaoh trotting along with his tail down.

"Now get up those stairs and stay up there! I'm watching you!"

Pharaoh trotted back up the staircase, occasionally glancing back down at Mrs Patmore. If she wanted a war…she'd get one!


	6. Pharaoh o' nine lives

**A/N: It's day 6 and Pharaoh is still trying!**

**Day 6 "Pharaoh o' nine lives…"**

The battle lines were drawn. The enemy identified. The weapon chosen. It was a mere waiting game now.

Swish, swish, swish.

The tail of the enemy moved tantalisingly, dangling lazily from the windowsill.

The enemy looked up. The enemy saw. The enemy held their location.

Swish, swish, swish.

The movement of the tail mocking and tormenting.

Pharaoh let out a low of growl of frustration as the stable cat gazed back at him, then jumped down from the window and positioned himself in the scullery doorway, tail laid idly now, and large, orange eyes fixed upon him with cocky assurance. He was allowed in and Pharaoh was not.

The cat lifted a paw and lazily washed behind his ears, smug and content in the knowledge that in his current location he was most definitely safe.

Pharaoh was being driven crazy.

xXx

Mrs Patmore was busy baking scones, she hummed merrily to herself as she mixed up a fresh batch, her mood happy and light now that dog had been banned from the kitchen. Ever since the previous few events, Pharaoh was now not allowed within any range of her kitchen. The relief was immense.

Now, she didn't need to worry about that dog racing about trying to steal her food, she could focus entirely upon her cooking and she had to admit, she was doing a fine job today – even with that fool girl Daisy mixing up the flours again.

She looked up at the high windows and couldn't help but chuckle at the fact it was raining and raining hard. Bad weather always made his lordship hungry and her scones would no doubt delight him. She would even open her best batch of strawberry jam and send him a nice afternoon treat, he would appreciate that.

xXx

Swish, swish, swish.

The tail was darting back and forth as the cat continued to wash himself from the comfort of the dry scullery whilst Pharaoh remained outside in the pouring rain. He just needed to be patient.

"Pharaoh?" someone called. Obviously his absence had been noted and now it was raining they'd be keen to get him inside. But he was so close now to fulfilling his goal.

"Come on, boy!" the voice called again. Pharaoh was torn, he ought to answer to his name but he was so close now! He couldn't back down!

"Phaaa-raoh!" the voice sang out loudly followed by some shrill whistling.

Pharaoh's ears pricked at the high pitched sound and he shifted, torn between running towards the sound and completing his task.

The cat's ears pricked too and two orange eyes watched him steadily. The tail stopped swishing.

xXx

Mrs Patmore opened the door to the oven and bent over to lift out the first batch of beautiful golden scones. She inhaled deeply and smiled happily at her success. Of all her talents, baking was definitely her best and she prided herself on her scones. And these, were beauties.

xXx

This was it. The time was now.

Pharaoh set off at a run towards the cat, the plan went straight into action. The cat watched, his eyes widened and yet still held his nerve.

Pharaoh got closer and suddenly the cat set off, tail up, he ran full pelt towards the kitchens, Pharaoh not far behind. This was where the next part of his plan came into force, before he reached the kitchens he skidded to a halt as the cat continued, racing headlong into the kitchen where Mrs Patmore would be.

Pharaoh waited and hoped his plan paid off.

xXx

Mrs Patmore was just about to place her tray of hot scones onto the table when something furry rushed past her legs, she shrieked, the tray falling from her hands and with a dreadful noise the metal tray clanged to the floor and with it, the beautiful scones, rolling and scattering in all directions.

Mrs Patmore saw the flash of a feline tail disappear out of the door and she set off after it, shrieking like a banshee. As she reached the door of the kitchen she saw nothing but an empty corridor except for some tell-tale wet paw prints, prints that were decidedly canine.

"Ohhh, that's it. That dog's had it!" she muttered murderously under her breath. "Daisy! Pick up them scones and dust 'em off for heaven's sakes girl!"


	7. We'll meat again

**Day 7 – We'll meat again….**

Mrs Patmore was on edge. She'd woken up in a rather odd mood, she sensed that something was amiss, that today was a day where things would happen. She could feel a sense of foreboding lingering in the air and although she couldn't quite put her finger on it, she knew that something big would happen today.

She spent the morning looking over her shoulder; she had a terrible sense that she was being observed by eyes far more cunning than she was. She was fully aware that she was being watched but every time she turned round there was nothing untoward.

It was highly unsettling.

xXx

Pharaoh was pacing, he couldn't settle anywhere. He'd tried the library but couldn't get comfortable, his constant pacing and whining had become too much even for Lord Grantham and eventually he'd evicted Pharaoh from the room.

He'd tried the staircase; it was usually a place he enjoyed to frequent. From the high vantage point he could watch all the comings and goings of the house and was always on hand to greet any newcomers who may visit the family. But today, the staircase held no joy, no matter where he put his head he just wasn't comfy and he had a rather unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

Something was definitely going to happen.

xXx

Mrs Patmore still couldn't shake off that dreadful sense of foreboding as she placed the large joint of ham into the ovens. She had a feeling she'd forgotten something but for the life in her, she couldn't think what.

The ham was cooking, the bread baking, the soup boiling. Everything was as it should be, yet there was still something that didn't feel right.

xXx

Pharaoh had taken himself upstairs, he had prowled the corridors but nothing seemed to ease his discontent. He trotted back downstairs and even slipped outside to take in the fresh air, and though he enjoyed relieving himself down by the lake, he still felt restless.

As he made his way back towards the house, a smell caught his attention, a smell that made every hair stand up on air. Suddenly he felt restless no more.

xXx

Mrs Patmore heard the unmistakable sound of claw against stone and spun round, wiping her hands violently on her apron.

"I knew it!" she hissed to herself. "I knew something would happen!"

She saw the unmistakable golden tail of his lordship's dog as it disappeared down the corridor. There was no mistaking the plans that dog had, but he hadn't bargained on Mrs Patmore.

Glancing around, her plans were made and she lifted up the remaining meat from yesterday's dinner. She'd intended to use it for sandwiches for the staff but this idea seemed far more appropriate.

If this worked, that dog would be banished from the house forever.

"Come Pharaoh!" she called in a tone she hoped sounded friendly and light. "Come and get the tasty meat!"

xXx

Pharaoh had been hoping to wait in the scullery until he saw an opportunity to investigate the new delicious smell originating from the kitchen. But, at the sound of his name, his ears pricked and his attention caught.

He peered into the corridor to see the cook, that scary cook, waving some meat about and calling out his name. If he could have frowned, he would.

This was odd.

"Come on!" Mrs Patmore encouraged. "Look! Meat! Come on, yer dumb dog!"

Pharaoh stepped closer and sniffed. It was meat alright and she was showing her teeth at him in the way that humans do when they are pleased. He stepped closer again, the smell of meat filling his nostrils.

"Here! Take it!" Mrs Patmore picked a chunk of meat and threw it towards him.

He watched it roll on the floor and he couldn't take anymore. He launched forward and gobbled the tasty bit in one swallow. He wagged his tail and looked up expectantly.

Mrs Patmore took a few steps down the corridor and threw another piece down. Pharaoh followed her, swallowing each piece of meat; hardly tasting it.

Mrs Patmore led Pharaoh along the corridor and out into the yard dropping meaty chunks as she went until she arrived at the coal shed. She flung some great meaty pieces right into the coal house, and smiled wickedly as Pharaoh leapt in, rummaging through the coal to get at the meat. She grinned evilly as Pharaoh's golden coat quickly turned black.

Once the meat was devoured, Pharaoh appeared, his eyes and the tip of his tail the only thing not covered in coal. He wagged his tail, his tongue hanging out happily.

"Right, come boy!" Mrs Patmore encouraged and led him back inside, making sure that there was no-one around.

Pharaoh followed, tail wagging happily. He was delighted at this turn of events, even if he had got rather dirty in the process. He wondered where she was taking him and if there would be anymore meat for him.

Mrs Patmore looked about herself and then knocked on the door of the housekeeper's room. Waiting, there was no response, and so Mrs Patmore opened the door and flung the remaining piece of meat into the room.

Pharaoh ran in and leapt straight up onto the bed, he devoured the meat and then, thinking the bedding was an ideal place to clean himself, began to roll around on the white bedspread.

Mrs Patmore scuttled back to the kitchen chuckling heartily to herself and waited. She scolded Daisy, shouted at the hall boy and continued on with preparing the dinner. To the world, nothing was amiss.

She heard the scream as Mrs Hughes returned. She joined the rest of the staff as they rushed towards Mrs Hughes' bedroom and she had to stuff her hand into her mouth to stop herself exploding with laughter at the sight she was met with.

Pharaoh had made a dreadful mess. Every part of the room was covered with coal dust and great black paw prints. The bed, the rugs, the curtains – all were smudged with coal. Mrs Hughes was mortified and Pharaoh, sat boldly on her bed, couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Mrs Patmore had encouraged him – of course, he couldn't tell anyone that.

xXx

The water was freezing and the stable boy was very heavy handed as he scrubbed Pharaoh for the second time that week. Pharaoh had never felt sorrier, he'd been tricked, he saw that now. Mrs Patmore had fooled him into thinking she was his friend, and this was the result.

How was he to know that that bedroom was not for rolling around in? Mrs Patmore had opened the door to let him in! How was he to know it was forbidden?

As water poured over him, he thought miserably how everyone had scolded him, how Mr Carson had shouted at him, and how, right now, every maid in the house was cursing him as they cleaned up the mess he'd made. All because of that woman!

Now it really was war.

xXx

Mrs Patmore was triumphant as she removed the great joint of ham from the oven. She had finally managed to rid herself of that pesky dog. Even though questions were asked as to how Pharaoh managed to get into Mrs Hughes room, especially as the door had been closed, it was firmly decided that Pharaoh must not be allowed downstairs under any circumstance.

Mr Carson relayed the whole affair to Lord Grantham and he was most apologetic, offering to replace any of Mrs Hughes' personal belongings that had been damaged. He agreed that Pharaoh must be banished from downstairs until he could show an improvement of behaviour.

Mrs Patmore couldn't help but hum happily as she placed the meat to rest on the table. She merrily barked a few orders at Daisy, but she couldn't scold her too harshly, she was in too good a mood!

And to think she'd had a bad feeling about today!

Freshly washed and dried, Pharaoh was in a bad mood. He couldn't believe his own stupidity at falling for such a trick. He would get her back and that was a fact! He just had to wait.

His chance came quicker than he'd expected. The hall boy had left the back door open and Pharaoh knew his chance was now and only now. There was no time for plans, nor for cunning. He just had to rush in and grab.

He set off at a dash and was glad to find the corridor empty. He galloped towards the kitchens, following the smell of freshly cooked ham and saw his chance. He raced in, tail high and rocketed around the table. Muzzle up, he opened his mouth and clamped it firmly down onto the great joint of ham.

He felt his mind haze over in delight but quickly shook it away; there was no time for that now. He pulled at the meat and was pleased when it relented. He was beginning to feel triumphant when he heard a shriek.

"You!"

There was no time to hang about, he pulled at the meat and it almost fell to the floor when he saw another hand grab at the other end of the meat.

"Oh no you don't!"

What ensued can only be described as a most gruesome battle. Pharaoh pulled at one end and Mrs Patmore the other. They both pulled hard and both emitted a low growl at the back of their throats. Neither wanted to relent, this was a battle of honour, Pharaoh pulled, Mrs Patmore pulled harder, Pharaoh shook his head trying to break her grip on the meat and Mrs Patmore had to hold on tightly.

"Let go!" she shrieked at him, "leave!"

Pharaoh refused, around them spectators had gathered, watching the battled between dog and cook. Mrs Patmore pulled hard and Pharaoh growled. He gave one violent shake of his head and felt Mrs Patmore's grip loosen. Another shake, and the meat was free.

Pharaoh wasted no time and set off running, ham joint hanging out of his mouth. He ran for the door, the sound of shrieks echoing after him. Pharaoh ran, ran as fast as his four legs could carry him. He galloped gaily towards the lake, meat juices dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

Finding himself in a quiet spot he settled down and began to indulge himself in a meat feast. He chomped, he chewed, he licked, he gnawed…it was heavenly.

His plan had paid off, though he knew he would pay for this on his return, he didn't care. It had been the perfect waiting game and, if he planned it carefully, this could become a regular thing!

But for now, he simply enjoyed gnawing his way through that delicious ham.

THE END

_A/N: And this, dear reader, is why, in my opinion, Pharaoh is not going to be in S2! :-D Thank you for reading and reviewing this madness, I hope you're truly enjoyed it! Poor Pharaoh won't be in the next series, so this is dedicated to him – Bow-Wow old friend! His replacement, Isis, apparently has her own storyline in S2, hands up those who really hope it's a war with Mrs Patmore? *hand is up* Thank you once again! :-D xx_


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